


Awakening

by InterstellarVagabond



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Why Hajime saw Chiaki at the end of the anime
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:47:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21809773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InterstellarVagabond/pseuds/InterstellarVagabond
Summary: As the former remnants wake from the Neo World Program and start to build a new future for themselves, Hajime finds himself with an overwhelmed mind. On the days he isn't battling with his alter ego, he's seeing people that are very much dead. While the others look to him for leadership, he looks for a solution to his agitated state. Are things bad enough to let infamously unstable Nagito help him stabilize?
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito/Nanami Chiaki
Comments: 7
Kudos: 57





	Awakening

He stared into the mirror, taking in an obscured reflection from behind a curtain of long dark hair. He stared, blankly, for a time, until he remembered he’d been halfway through pulling the hair up and out of his face. His hands were still posed by his head, a hair tie stretched between his fingers. 

He continued the motion, and gathered his hair into a messy bun that persisted in cascading down past his shoulders. One lock slipped out and fell into his face again and he frowned. His fingers pushed it aside so they could trail slowly over the raised scar that decorated his forehead. 

They said he wouldn’t be able to remember anything, but it seemed to him that he remembered too much. His memories were still trying to reconcile themselves: his true life full of regret and the simulated life that had returned a fraction of his old self. There were things missing here and there, mostly belonging to Izuru, but the overarching problem was how his memories collided and made his mind a foggy space.

It seemed to be that way for all the members of his class, all the ones awake anyway. They’d managed to hold onto their memories of Jabberwock Island, and those memories had gone to war with their old ones trying to bring out the people they were before  _ she _ interceded. 

“You need some help there, bud?”

He looked up at the voice, realizing he’d let another few minutes of stillness pass by. Kazuichi waved lazily, and then gestured to his unruly hair. “We could just cut it you know.”

“... I guess.” he shrugged. 

Kazuichi frowned a little. “Hm… lemme call in some reinforcements for now.”

He returned awhile later with another member of their class, and she set to work weaving the dark hair into a neat braid.

“I think it’s rather lovely,” Sonia said optimistically. “Though, we could cut it if it gets in the way.”

“Whatever,” he replied dully. 

Kazuichi made a gesture that could have translated to: see what I mean? And Sonia matched his frown. 

“So.” she tied off the braid with the hair tie. “What would you prefer we call you? Hajime? Izuru?”

“Either works,” he answered. 

“Yeah, but, like, which do you  _ prefer _ ?” Kazuichi prompted. 

He noticed another two people slowly making their way into the room. The last two of those currently awake. The group tended to stick together with the notable exception of the one they were all fretting over now.

It was a largely featureless room, just like another he was familiar with. There was a bed, a window, the Future Foundation’s secret faction hadn’t had much to work with when trying to rehabilitate known criminals. The facilities they’d been left with were largely Spartan, though when they felt ready to venture out to the other islands they’d find those comfortable cottages rendered just in reality as they were in the simulation. 

“His name is Hajime,” Fuyuhiko said finally, arms folded over his chest as he leaned against the wall. “Got it?”

“Yeah, that sounds best to me too,” Kazuichi agreed. “C’mon, Hajime, whatcha think?”

“I told you, I don’t care what you call me,” he answered, an irritated edge to his voice that actually made the others smile. When he realized he felt annoyed, it sparked another emotion: surprise. He tossed his braid over his shoulder and looked at the others with mismatched eyes. Deep down he knew it was hard for them. He’d led them out of that simulation with a big speech and a promise, and now here he was haunting his room alone. If they’d expected a leader they’d be disappointed now. Something told him though, that they were more concerned about a friend. He found the thought heartening, and once again the unfamiliar throb of emotion made his breath catch in his chest. 

“Well, maybe Hajime works best,” he said evenly, the barest smirk starting to form on his lips. “Easier for someone like you to remember, Kaz.”

“Yeah I- hey, wait a minute, what’s that supposed to mean?” Kazuichi asked, offended, and Sonia giggled. 

“He’s calling you a dumbass,” Akane added helpfully. “Hey, Hajime, have you eaten yet today? I haven’t seen you out of this room once. You gonna take care of yourself or do we have to tie you down and feed ya?”

“I rather... we not do that,” Hajime said. “I’ll come willingly.”

“I could still carry ya if ya like!” Akane said with a grin and a thumbs up.

“Please. No.”

They sometimes ate in the cafeteria, but usually they ate where everyone was. That room in the basement full of computers, wires, and pods. They carried trays down and pulled rolling office chairs over to whoever they were visiting that day, and ate and talked and watched, waiting. 

“This is brain activity, isn’t it?” Fuyuhiko asked, gestring to the display by Peko’s pod. Hajime examined it, and then gave a silent nod. Fuyuhiko grinned triumphantly. “Thought so. She’s too tough to sleep much longer.”

“My money’s still on red,” Akane said, jerking a thumb in Mahiru’s direction. “Too stubborn, she’ll be up and about anyday now.”

“Honestly, I can’t believe it’s not Nagito,” Kazuichi said with a nervous laugh. “You’d think the weirdo would be raring to sit up and talk our ears off.”

Hajime was sitting next to Nagito that day, and gave the slumbering young man a complicated look that came with some complicated feelings. 

“I cannot wait to see everyone again!” Sonia said cheerfully, clasping her hands before her. 

“Well, not everyone…” Fuyuhiko added darkly, kicking a bit at the floor. The room grew quiet and somber as the others remembered the one friend that wouldn’t be coming back. Sonia gave Hajime a concerned look, which he pointedly ignored.

Many of his memories as Izuru were missing, but there were some all too clear. The memory of sitting for endless hours in his room waiting to be called upon for another trial. The memory of the first killing game. The memory of Junko’s breath hot on his neck as she whispered in his ear.

The memory of Chiaki’s death.

Makoto had confirmed that the Chiaki AI in the NeoWorld Program had been a reflection of the class’s idea of what a caretaker should be, but still… she had been just as real as the Chiaki he’d watched die. And so, he felt, he’d watched her die twice.

“Hey, you’re not eating.” Akane prodded Hajime in the shoulder and pointed to his tray.

  
  


They cut his hair a week later, after Akane won the bet and Mahiru woke up.

She’d taken one look at the tangled locks Hajime had helplessly tied back and forced him to sit down while she went on the attack with a pair of scissors. 

“Could you even see? Gosh!” she sighed, as long strands of hair fell to the ground. The scissors snipped by Hajime’s ear and he felt a huge weight off his head as another lock was severed. “You have to take care of yourself, you know.”

She’d left his bangs just long enough to cover the scar, without asking, but he looked more his old self now. 

“Nothing wrong with long hair on a guy, but it has to make you happy,” Mahiru said, setting the scissors aside. “You looked like a ghost.”

“... Okay?” Hajime said, earning himself a glare.

“Well, go tell me what you think.” she gestured to the bathroom attached to his room, and Hajime followed the movement to the mirror. 

Looking at himself made his throat dry. There was a strange disconnect between him and his reflection, starting with the idea that somehow it had been years and somehow it had been days since he’d last seen himself like this. He pushed the hair off his forehead to check and make sure the scar was still there. He was still awake, still in the real world of consequences. 

“They’re doing very well, it makes me happy to see.”

Hajime nodded. He was sitting on a bench outside watching as Akane and Nekomaru traded blows a touch too hard for any normal pair of sparring partners. Just to his right, Ibuki, Mahiru, and Hiyoko were doing some sort of craft. Hajime had no idea where they’d gotten the materials. 

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“What about you?” she asked, turning to face him.

“What about me?” Hajime asked.

“Are you doing well?”

Hajime turned to her as well, pulling a face. “I think maybe that question answers itself, Chiaki.”

Chiaki sighed, a small smile on her face. She was holding an Usami plush as always.

“You should spend more time with them,” she pushed.

“I wasn’t even really in their class,” Hajime said, scratching the back of his neck and narrowing his eyes as Nekomaru tossed Akane across the yard.

“I hear there’s an opening for a new student.”

“That’s not funny,” Hajime said sharply.

“Sorry.” Chiaki shrugged. “But it’s true. I need you to be there for them, and I need them to be there for you. Can you do that for me?”

“Hajime.”

Hajime looked up and found Peko’s scarlet eyes staring back at him. 

“Uh, yeah?” he stammered.

“Who are you talking to?” she asked, her gaze like steel.

“No one,” Hajime said with a shrug. “Just myself.”

“My m-... Fuyuhiko, tells me that Makoto Naegi warned him of adverse side effects from the Neo World program,” she said, looking him over carefully. “You would report if you were experiencing any of these effects, would you not?”

“I’m fine, Peko,” Hajime assured her. 

“H-he’s just not waking up.”

Mikan wrung her hands nervously before her, looking at her feet like she expected to be reprimanded.

_ Stop squirming,  _ Izuru growled, irritated with all the unnecessary pretense and action cluttering up this moment.

“You’ve done all you can,” Hajime said, putting a hand on her arm. “This isn’t exactly your area of expertise, and let’s be real-he’s always been difficult.”

Mikan giggled just as nervously, and then cleared her throat seeming ashamed for laughing. Hajme moved past her to the main computer, and opened a program he’d been working on the past few days. 

“What are y-you doing?” Mikan asked.

“Plan B. We can’t leave him here on his own, and we need to go stop that killing game,” Hajime said. “So I’m sending someone in after him.”

“That’s familiar code,” Chiaki said, peeking over his shoulder. Hajime grinned a little, and put a finger over his lips like he was shushing her. 

  
  


“Sorry, it might ache for a bit,” Hajime said. “You really shouldn’t be moving around or using it for a few more days but…”

“People need our help,” Nagito said, testing the prosthetic with the barest wince as each finger curled in towards his palm. “No need to worry about someone like me.”

_ Is it working properly? _ Izuru was hyperfocused on the project that they’d been working on, and seeing it in action. 

“If it starts to freeze up or hurt too bad, find somewhere to lay low and wait it out,” Hajime said. “It could put you in danger otherwise.”

“Oh, I’m not too worried about that,” Nagito said with a serene smile. “After all, my death could prove to be a useful distraction during the battle.”

_ He’s not wrong, _ Izuru mused.

“Once we get back we really have to talk about therapy options,” Hajime sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to use up any resources the others might need,” Nagito said pleasantly, holding up his hands in a placating gesture and wincing again as the newly connected nerves lit up with pain. 

“Trust me, Nagito,” Hajime said dryly, “No one needs therapy more than you.”

  
  


Hajime stared out at the churning ocean, which had grown darker and darker as the sun went down. Everyone was either asleep or at their posted stations, leaving the deck empty for him. 

The Remnants of Despair, tired out after a victory party that involved more laughter than Hajime had heard in a long while. He leaned on the railing, and closed his eyes. 

“Hey, Hajime.”

He opened his eyes again, startled by the sudden voice behind him. He turned around to see Nagito waving at him. 

“Oh, hey,” he answered, as Nagito joined him by the railing. Things were still strange between the two of them. It was like they’d gone back to their friendship those first few days on the island, and yet every now and then Nagito would open his mouth and say something so weird it just pushed them right back into that strange fear drenched rivalry that had evolved between them as the killing game went on. 

“How are you feeling?” Nagito asked, eyes slowly looking Hajime up and down.

“Tired mostly,” Hajime admitted. 

“Ah, is that why you were talking to Chiaki earlier?” Nagito asked simply, and Hajime made a strangled sound. 

“W-what?” he stammered.

“During the party? Right before I called you over?” Nagito said as though he was trying to jog Hajime’s memory about something far more common than a hallucination of a dead friend. “That is who you were talking to, right?”

“How do you know that?” Hajime asked.

“It just seemed obvious.” Nagito shrugged. “I talk to her sometimes too but… something tells me we don’t exactly have the same way of doing it…”

“What are you trying to get me to say?” Hajime accused, and Nagito held up his hands in a surrender.

“Nothing!” he insisted. “I’m just… curious and… concerned.”

“Concerned?” Hajime asked just as suspiciously.

“Yes,” Nagito said, eyes wide. 

For a moment they stood there, Nagito with his hands still up and Hajime bristling and only the sound of the ocean between them. Then Hajime’s shoulders sank, and his eyes fell, and Nagito made a small worried sound at the way he so quickly went from accusing to defeated. 

“It would be you that found out,” he sighed.

“Is that a bad thing?” Nagito asked.

“Maybe.” Hajime ran a hand through his hair. 

“Fair enough,” Nagito laughed. “I haven’t exactly given you reason to trust me or… so I understand.”

“So you understand?”

“I don’t really understand a lot of what you guys say or do,” Nagito said, his smile calm as ever. “But apparently I’m a little… extreme?”

“Bizarre.”

“Okay,” Nagito laughed again. “Sometimes, the things I try to do to help do more harm than good is the gist of what I’ve learned.”

“Didn’t you blow up the gym that one time?”

“And it postponed the exams!” Nagito whined defensively. 

“You got suspended.”

“That was fine.”

“There was a  _ bomb _ , Nagito.”

“No one got hurt!”

“Yeah,” Hajime rolled his eyes. “ _ Luckily _ .”

“That’s my calling card.” Nagito grinned. “But, we’re getting off topic. I just wanted to say that… even if my methods have been… wrong… all I have ever wanted is to help all of you.”

He lay his hands lightly on the railing and turned to Hajime, his pale hair almost illuminated by the moon and his eyes somehow darker for it. 

“I meant it,” he said. “I love you, and the potential for hope you carry.”

“Yeah, I know.” Hajime felt his cheeks flush despite himself, which only made Nagito chuckle. 

“And… I did love Chiaki too,” Nagito said sadly. “So, if you’re seeing her… I think it has to mean something. Maybe it’s not something good, but it’s something I want to at least help with.”

“You should let him.”

Hajime jumped as Chiaki suddenly appeared. Unwilling to talk to her so obviously in front of someone he shot her a questioning gaze. She lifted a finger like she was lecturing to a class.

“You two both make yourselves so lonely,” she scolded. “From being stubborn or acting weird. This would be good for both of you, right?”

“... great…” Hajime groaned.

“Oh, is it?” Nagito asked, tilting his head to the side. 

“Sure, yeah,” Hajime said. “Why not?”

“Is she bullying you?” Nagito asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Are you being bullied by a hallucination? Typical reserve course student bullied by his own mind…”

“I could throw you overboard, you know,” Hajime said.

“If that’s what would help you.”

“If you say ‘stepping stone’ I will actually do it.”


End file.
